Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Czech Republic and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
X-101,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
Althea and Donna,
Gong,
The Fugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Kinks,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doors,
Animal Collective,
Marine Girls,
Carl Craig,
Faust,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
UT,
Skarface,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Sneak,
Boredoms,
Minny Pops,
Lakeside,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Machine,
Maurizio,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Ronan,
Royal Trux,
Sonny Sharrock,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Eric Copeland,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reuben Wilson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pussy Galore,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.